


More Than A Childhood Promise

by ThirthFloor



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Felix Hugo Fraldarius Needs A Hug, Fluff, Ingrid is the best lowkey, Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Marry Your Boyfriend, Soft Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier Being An Idiot, Sylvain Jose Gautier Needs A Hug, Sylvain is a softie, but this one's for the boys, dammit, the girls are mostly for background but Ingrid helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirthFloor/pseuds/ThirthFloor
Summary: "Sylvain loved everything about him. His voice, his eyes, his hair and his laugh and his everything. And he realised it more than ever in the middle of the market as he passed a small vendor, the display box catching sunlight and glittering in his peripheral vision.Sylvain turned his head to look at the rings in the case. And then he knew. He just knew that he had to propose to Felix. The truth of it burned in his chest, butterflies in his stomach rising to form a knot in his throat. He needed to know that Felix would be his, always. He needed Felix to know."
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 118





	More Than A Childhood Promise

“Sylvain,” the voice the redhead knew so well came from the other side of his door. Lifting the arm that had been draped over his eyes, Sylvain sat up in his bed, head foggy. Glancing at a clock, he realised that the brief nap he’d intended had turned into a full twelve hours. Vaguely remembering waking up in the middle of the night to shower, he relaxed slightly, but still swung out of bed quickly. It was ten in the morning. _Shit_. He had training, war council, errands to run and…

“Sylvain, open the damn door.” Felix’s voice was exasperated, but not hurried in any way. Granted, to the untrained ear, it always seemed passive and bored; but Sylvain understood that he was only waiting with what patience he could muster.

“Right, yeah,” Tugging on some clean pants and a shirt, Sylvain tried to sound energised. “Just give me a second, Fe.” Shoes next, a jacket, and running a hand through his wildfire hair did the trick. Sylvain almost looked like he’d been awake for a while; the subtle bags under his eyes gave him away, although they vanished when he flashed a quick practice smile at himself in the mirror. _Perfect_. No one would suspect a thing.

The door had only been open for a second, a greeting on his lips when Felix spoke first. “You look like shit.” His arms were crossed, his own beautiful almond-shaped eyes rimmed by dark shadows, but those were a principal aspect of his features now. Despite any amount of work, Felix always got in his personal training, four to six every morning. Sylvain knew this, having been forced to go with him sometimes, although he more frequently had felt Felix’s warm presence leave the bed at early hours when he quietly dressed to leave for the grounds.

No doubt had he done the same today, only Sylvain had been alone last night. And for the past few nights, if not weeks. This actually was the first time Sylvain had the chance to focus on him recently; preparation for each coming battle was getting more and more gruelling as they planned to reach the capital. Felix didn’t look too different, although there was an energy of frustration about him. The crease between his thin eyebrows betrayed a targeted annoyance, juxtaposing his relaxed posture as he gazed up at Sylvain.

So, at least he wasn’t the cause this time. That was good.

Sylvain laughed quietly at Felix’s jab, easily responding, “You don’t look fine and dandy yourself. Everything okay?”

“Not exactly.” A long sigh. “My father is a fool and the Boar is even worse, nothing new but it’s getting more and more irritating to say the least.”

“Damn, I’m sorry Fe…” Sylvain frowned empathetically, reaching out to him. The hug was short-lived as Felix squirmed away and crossed his arms again, a blush on his cheeks. He held Sylvain’s gaze.

So, he wasn’t being bashful, and he didn’t want to be comforted. The redhead’s frown turned confused. “I uh… I have stuff to do. I should probably get going.”

 _Now_ Felix looked down, toeing the ground. “I cancelled your schedule for the day. We’re going out. To town. For lunch.”

Sylvain beamed, and it lifted Felix’s heart a little, his expression lighting up just enough to be noticeable. “Oh, a date then? Aw, Felix you spoil me sometimes.”

Pink tinged his face. “Shut up, you’re still paying. You’ve been working hard and so have I and we’re going to spend a day together because that’s what boyfriends do. Hey – stop looking at me like that!” Felix recoiled when Sylvain reached out to pinch his cheek, ducking and stepping back. Regardless of his best efforts to conceal it, there was laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Usually you aren’t bold enough to do the asking out,” Sylvain’s lilting voice teased, closing the door behind him after stepping out of the room. “You had me worried for a second there. But hey, I kinda like it.”

“I only did because _usually_ you beat me to it, and I was tired of waiting.” Felix huffed and fell into step beside the taller man as they left the dormitories.

“If only I had waited a _little_ longer in asking you out the first time, then -”

“Then you’d still be waiting, dummy.”

“Aw – ow!”

~

Sylvain couldn’t keep his eyes off Felix the whole walk into town. The way the sun shone on his pale skin, his obsidian black hair swishing as he strode, even the purposeful pace of his steps; they were all things that Sylvain had missed over the past weeks without realising how _much_ he missed them.

What he had wanted most of all was to hear his voice. Felix didn’t talk much back at the monastery, usually caught up with whatever task he was off to complete. He communicated with the others in one-word answers unless fully addressed, and would stop speaking out of pure spite if his father was around, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgement.

And Rodrigue was around a lot these days. It clearly made Felix angry, made him feel watched and overshadowed in ways he had never fully articulated. Sylvain didn’t push for answers, although a part of him naturally understood. He didn’t make Felix talk about things he didn’t want to. So, it made Sylvain more than happy to listen to him now.

Something in Felix had shifted since they’d last spent quality time together. Maybe it was the absence that stirred the change. But when usually Sylvain carried the whole conversation, Felix seemed to have _a lot_ to tell him today. He filled Sylvain in on details from Faerghus, briefly digressing to talk light shit about Dimitri, discussed his own training and scolded Sylvain on not training enough. Sylvain felt fulfilled by hearing his voice, overjoyed to be the person he trusted enough just to _ramble_ to. And he was surprised that even a couple weeks – not even apart, just _busy_ – could overwhelm him with such a sense of emotion. He had really _missed_ Felix, even though he’d been right there. Sylvain felt the sudden urge to hold him close and never let go.

But they were walking through the market now, so he couldn’t do that just yet. Sylvain looked around, sufficing to reach down and grab Felix’s hand.

“And then – hey, Sylvain!” Felix rolled his wrist a few times in an attempt to free himself, but finally sighed and gave up, not wanting to make a scene. He pouted, and Sylvain loved it.

Really, he loved _Felix_. Deeper than he’d ever loved anything before... Sylvain looked down at him, once again admiringly. Not only was Felix physically just perfect, but his personality was so exciting once one got around the sharp edges and poking sarcasm. Sylvain loved how Felix didn’t take any shit, how he wouldn’t hesitate to call Sylvain out on whatever crap he was trying to pull. Sometimes it was annoying, but he never had to lie to him. And Felix wasn’t all that mean; he had soft, squishy and tender parts of his temperament that would show through in the best of times. Sylvain had seen it in the way his eyes softened when given a present on his birthday, when he’d rant, frustrated but determined after getting beaten in a sparring match by the Professor. He had seen it when he’d tuck Felix into bed on nights he was too tired to argue, or that one time Sylvain had taken care of him after he’d fallen ill with a fever from training too long in the rain. And especially, _especially_ , Sylvain saw it in the unconditional trust that lie deep in Felix’s dark eyes when he held him in the quiet hours of the morning; when nothing was between them, literally or figuratively, Felix would look at Sylvain with a vulnerability and _trust_ that he knew was for himself alone.

Sylvain loved everything about him. His voice, his eyes, his hair and his laugh and his _everything_. And he realised it more than ever in the middle of the market as he passed a small vendor, the display box catching sunlight and glittering in his peripheral vision.

Sylvain turned his head to look at the rings in the case. And then he knew. He just knew that he _had_ to propose to Felix. The truth of it burned in his chest, butterflies in his stomach rising to form a knot in his throat. He needed to know that Felix would be his, always. He needed _Felix_ to know.

It was overwhelming, and undeniable, and Sylvain did not realise that he had slowed to a stop in the middle of the street. Felix’s hand tugged on his.

“What are you doing Sylvain? Hurry up.” The smaller man’s attention had not been drawn to the jeweller’s stand, and Sylvain quickly snapped his gaze forward to hide it, red hair tousling about his forehead. His heart was beating hard, his pulse heavy with anxiousness.

He had to do it. But how?

~

The sandwich shop was a regular stop of theirs. It was quick, easy, and quiet. They always sat together on the little patio outside the small building. Sylvain had gotten their sandwiches and came back, placing one down in front of Felix and sitting across from him. He’d tried to focus, but his eyes kept drifting absently, unfocusing in the distance as he pondered what to do.

He had to get a ring, today. And he was going to propose, but when? With a war going on, should he do it sooner rather than later, or wait for peace?

Oh gods, what if Felix didn’t even want that much commitment? And what would they do if they even made it out of the war and got married? They couldn’t abandon their territories, their bloodlines…

“ _Sylvain_.” Felix’s voice was annoyed. And it _was_ at him this time. Sylvain’s attention quickly turned back to the man in front of him. The love of his life, who seemed _very_ irritated. “What the hell are you staring at?” He appeared relieved that Sylvain had at least looked at him, but Sylvain caught that Felix’s knee was bouncing nervously under the table, a habit he rarely let show.

“Nothing, just…” A flash of his best smile, “thinking about some stuff I’ve got to do this month. I know you cancelled my schedule, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have to do all those things eventually…”

Felix tsked, unsatisfied. “Well, could you at least pay attention now? It wouldn’t kill you…” His tone stayed sharp, but it was easy to tell he was hurt. Felix didn’t go out of his way to do things for anyone but Sylvain, and this had clearly been done in an effort to spend time with him since it had been so long. And Sylvain was ruining it. _Shit_.

Fearing his guilty blush was as bright as his hair, he tried to rescue himself. “I like listening to you talk, though. You rarely just babble to me. It’s cute.”

“I wasn’t _babbling_ ,” Felix crossed his arms. “And you’ve barely touched your food. Hurry up, I have to go to the market.”

Sylvain’s eyes lit up, and Felix’s narrowed suspiciously. “What do you need to go to the market for?” It was a perfect opportunity; and surely, Felix would understand. If Sylvain managed to pull off the perfect proposal, all would be forgiven. If Felix could put up with him for this long, then a little tension before a _proposal_ would be nothing.

“I need some whetstones. My last one got ruined this morning.” Felix looked away as Sylvain wolfed down his sandwich, shoulders sagging imperceptibly. He definitely intended to get some good use out of those whetstones. A _lot_ of time in the training grounds would be needed after this disaster of an outing.

Sylvain picked up their trash and tossed it into a nearby bin, dusting off his hands before holding one down to Felix. “To the market then, Fe. I’ve got some stuff to pick up too.” He grinned, and Felix looked away. He reluctantly accepted, though, instantly feeling secret relief at his own gloved hand in Sylvain’s. Despite the insufferable frustration he was currently battling, the whole purpose of this day was to spend it together. Maybe there was time to salvage it.

Felix had missed him, he really had. He was stressed and wanted a distraction; instead, he was getting stress from an entirely new source. He held Sylvain’s hand a little tighter. Felix didn’t like feeling clingy, but when things were going as poorly as they were, he couldn’t help but want reassurance. He tried to ignore the sinking disappointment that he probably wouldn’t be receiving any.

Sylvain talked most of the way back to the market. It was shallow, anything that came to mind to cover his own ass. He knew he was making Felix upset, so he was trying his best to act normal. Yet the closer they got, the more distracted he became. Invasive worries came to his thoughts. How was he going to keep this a secret?

Felix began to pull him in the direction of the smithy, and Sylvain stopped walking. “How about you go get your stuff, and I’ll get mine? That way we can head back faster.” He smiled casually, easily. It was the slip of a smile he flashed at girls who walked past giggling, just a nervous laugh’s away from being the apologetic grin he used to get out of tasks with the Professor. Felix was put on edge by it, tensing. He frowned.

“Why can’t you just come with me? We can be seen in the market together.” His tone was accusatory, but underneath there was doubt. He couldn’t figure out why Sylvain was being such an airheaded jerk today.

“Yeah, I know, it’d just make it faster. We can hang out more back at the Monastery. We can even _cuddle_ if you want.” Sylvain wiggled his eyebrows at Felix playfully, hoping to get something out of him, a smile or an eyeroll or _something_.

All he got was a sigh as Felix’s grip on his hand slackened and he pulled away. “Fine. Go get whatever. I’ll meet you at Anna’s. She’s set up on the third street today.”

“Gotcha. See you soon, Fe!” Sylvain refused to give up the nickname, even as Felix’s frown stayed in place. “Wait, hold on,” He put a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, turning him to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Felix’s lips chased after his own when he pulled away, all too soon, but then the frown was back. “Not in public, idiot.” There was a visible blush, but he didn’t look too happy. He waved briefly before turning to begin his determined mission of haggling the smithy’s prices.

~

Sylvain waited until Felix had disappeared into the mingling market crowd before dashing off to find the jeweller. Arriving at her stand finally, he stared into the display case. Then he realised how little of an idea he had of what to get.

He glanced over his shoulder once, bright hair flopping briefly in his eyes, to make sure Felix hadn’t followed him. He looked back to the case and the sparkling rings inside, and clapped his hands to his cheeks, squeezing them once hopelessly.

The woman behind the stand, sitting in a chair and reading a novel, looked up at him from over the edge of her book. “Need help, Mr. Romantic?”

Sylvain looked up, suddenly worried that this was one of the many, many market girls he’d hit on in the past. It wasn’t – at least as far as he could remember. She didn’t seem particularly off put by him either, which was a good sign. “Um,” He struggled to begin. “Yes, I need a ring. For my boyfriend. I need to marry him.”

“Aw, cute,” The woman rolled her eyes and smiled at his impossibility. Closing her book, she stood, walking to the stand. “I’m guessing you don’t have much in mind, so do you have a price limit on what you’re willing to pay?”

“No, I don’t, sorry,” Sylvain folded his hands behind his head, still looking at the case.

“Don’t apologise for that, fella.” The woman grinned. “That’s good news for me.”

“But it doesn’t narrow down the options,” Sylvain whined. “Also, he can’t know I’m doing this, and he might walk past here any minute. So, can we speed this up, please?” He felt rude, but he was nervous.

He was buying a ring for Felix, he really was. It was exhilarating and also the most stressful thing he’d ever done.

The woman seemed to understand, laughing richly. “I get it. Does he have a favourite stone, a preference on size or anything?”

“I… I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it. He wears gloves often, so maybe something smaller? Although I don’t think it will really be a problem when it comes down to it.” Sylvain sighed, lost. “Can you suggest some, maybe?”

“Sure thing, kid.” She pulled out a rack from underneath the display, examining a few before picking out six. She laid them neatly on the clothed table before Sylvain. “What do you think of these?”

They all looked the same. Sure, the stones were different, and two were thicker than the rest, but nothing stuck out. He frowned, wishing he wasn’t feeling so picky. But it had to be _perfect_ , and he wasn’t dumb enough to ignore that.

“The darker stones are nice, but I like this one too…” Sylvain gently picked up one of the thicker rings, a flat turquoise gem fitted neatly into a wide, silver band. It felt heavier than he anticipated, but it did seem to make sense. He checked the size of the ring against his own hand. It barely fit past the knuckle on his own ring finger, which meant it was probably just the right size for Felix’s slender one. “The size is fine, I’m just not sure though.”

“That’s alright, I can pick out a couple more.”

As Sylvain was taking the ring off, it got jammed on his knuckle. “Ah, damnit…” Sylvain reddened, embarrassed as the woman looked up, and he tried to pry the ring off. As he struggled with the metal, his thumb pressed hard against the centre gem.

“Oh, shoot – be careful!” The woman held her hands out to stop him, and Sylvain feared he’d broken the ring. Was it really that flimsy?

 _No._ He looked down. A slender, curved blade had come from the back of the ring, curling forward over the gem. When he moved his hand, the gem was locked down, and the blade glinted in the light.

“Drats, I’m so sorry about that,” The vendor fretted. “Just push that little button thing on the front of the ring and it will go back in. I forgot about that, I’m sorry. It’s for the weapons fanatics, I accidentally put it in the engagement box again…”

Sylvain pushed the little button, watching the edge suddenly withdraw back into the ring as the gem popped up. “This is the one. I’ll take it.”

“Huh?” The woman blinked, then smiled in surprise. “Will your boy really like it? It’s a strange choice for a wedding ring…”

“Yeah, he’ll love it. How much?”

“300 gold pieces. Good luck, kid. I hope he really likes you.” The woman laughed again as Sylvain wiggled the ring off his finger, passing it to her in exchange for getting out his coin purse.

Sylvain chuckled giddily, taking the box and carefully putting it in his pocket. “Yeah, honestly me too.” He couldn’t keep the ridiculous grin off his face either as he sighed in relief. “You were so helpful, thank you so much. Now, I need to go cover for it…”

“Again, good luck!” The woman waved as Sylvain trotted off, smiling and returning to her book. She wondered if _her_ wife had felt the same way when she’d picked out their rings; Nah, she’d probably been even more nervous, considering the jeweller was her future bride’s father.

~

“There you are, Fe! Sorry I took so long.” Sylvain beamed at Felix when he met up with him outside Anna’s booth. A white bag swung at his side from his free hand.

Felix grunted in response, nodding towards the bag. “What’s that?”

 _Uh oh._ Felix was _mad_. Sylvain tried to remain confident, shrugging sheepishly. “Ingrid’s soap. I lost a bet to her a couple days ago, and now I have to run her errands for the month.”

A scoff. “Why couldn’t I have come along for that? That’s ridiculous.”

“Exactly!” Sylvain protested, adding in a laugh to ease the tension as best as he could. “It was kind of embarrassing, I don’t know…” He rubbed the back of his head, feeling genuinely awkward. This was _not_ going to plan. “I guess I didn’t want to bother you to come along.”

“Right,” Felix huffed doubtfully. “Instead I got to stand outside a shop. How much more fun could I hope for? Come on,” He began walking, his steps quick, the bag of whetstones slung over his shoulder. “I have things to do.”

“I thought you cleared the schedules?” Sylvain frowned, following him and jogging to catch up. So much for not having to lie to Felix… this feeling was awful.

“I cleared _your_ schedule. I was avoiding mine.” Felix kept his eyes forward.

“Oh.” They fell into an awkward silence for the entirety of the walk back. Felix marched off past the dorms, towards the training grounds. Sylvain trailed closely behind.

The bag of whetstones dropped heavily on the bench next to the weapons rack. Felix sat and picked one of his favourite swords, dull from its use this morning, and sifted through the bag for the right stone. Soon the silence was filled by the grinding of iron.

Sylvain stood in the entryway, bag at his side. He watched. He felt terrible, the excitement from earlier all but vanished into the pit in his stomach.

Maybe this had all been the wrong decision.

Felix didn’t look up when Sylvain cleared his throat. “Do you um… want me to go?”

His almond-shaped eyes were narrowed, focused, the amber in them dark and sour, when his gaze lifted to look through dark bangs. The redhead shifted back, recognising when he was overstepping. _Really_ overstepping, clearly.

“Sorry.” Sylvain mumbled it as he looked down, the weight of his guilt measuring only against the love for Felix he realised so vividly earlier. He had let his emotions get in the way, he’d been too driven by this stupid idea of doing something perfect that he’d went and ruined all of it. Sylvain waited for a response that didn’t come, then quietly turned, leaving Felix alone.

~

Sylvain found Ingrid at the stables. A tall, broad Pegasus was at her side, tossing its mane as she delicately brushed its silky white hair. The redhead called out her name as he jogged over to her, slowing a few paces away to not startle the stallion.

“Oh, hello Sylvain.” Ingrid greeted him, then her emerald eyes flicked down to the bag in his hand. “Is that… my soap?” That same gaze met his own, this time off put.

“Yeah, it is. I picked it up for you at the market.” In response to her quizzical look, Sylvain shook his head. “I need your help with something.”

Ingrid took the bag warily, then checked the contents. A sweet, lavender aroma caused her to smile peacefully. “You could have bought me something extra if you needed a favour. What is it, Sylvain?”

Sylvain hesitated, then toed the dusty ground with a boot. He didn’t want to admit it out loud. He didn’t want to believe that he’d spent the whole day planning something that sounded – even _felt_ – stupid now. Well, the idea wasn’t stupid, just the way that he’d moronically screwed up.

“I pissed Felix off. Bad.” He started.

“Oh no. What did you do, Sylvain?” Ingrid asked more out of courtesy than sympathy. She figured he’d just said something senseless, a garbage pickup line that made Felix question his relationship for a moment.

“No, really Ingrid.” This caught her attention. Worry was driving itself home in Sylvain’s tone as he continued. “I bought him something at the market, and I didn’t want to tell him what. So, I picked up your soap, then told him instead that I lost a bet to you a couple days ago and have to run your errands for the month now. Can you back me up on this?”

Ingrid put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brows. “You know I don’t lie unless it’s for a good reason. Tell me what you got, because considering the last thing you bought him was a _skirt_ , I don’t think he’s going to be happy with you using this as an excuse.”

“Hey, hey,” Sylvain laughed nervously, but it fell flat as he fumbled in his pocket for the box. “He looked good in that skirt. But here’s what I got.” He opened the case and turned it towards Ingrid.

She gasped. “Oh – wow, Sylvain, it’s beautiful! But…” She reached for it. “He might hate it. Can I take a look?”

“Please do,” Sylvain bit his lip uncertainly while Ingrid examined the ring. Would Felix hate it? “Press the centre gemstone. Careful.”

Ingrid experimentally poked the stone, then frowned when nothing happened. She pressed down harder. The curved edge sprung out with a tinny, metallic sound, and her eyes widened. “I… take it back. He’s going to love it.”

“It’s not weird? I just… I don’t know how to ask when I give it to him.”

“Wait, woah,” Ingrid gasped again, flushed with enthusiasm when she looked up at him. “You’re going to _propose_? Oh, Sylvain! Why didn’t you start with that, this is exciting now!”

Sylvain’s gaze turned down, shame once again darkening his face and welling up in his stomach. It was _supposed_ to be exciting, only… it wasn’t anymore. “I didn’t start with it, because I really messed up. He wanted to spend the day together and I was distracted thinking about this stupid ring and this proposal… I couldn’t help myself. I saw him, and I realised how much I love him, and I just have to do it. But now I don’t know if I can. I just… what do I do, Ingrid? You’ve known both of us for just as long.”

The corners of Ingrid’s mouth tugged in a frown as she looked down pensively, carefully putting the ring back in the box after watching the blade retract. “He’s been having a hard time, with Lord Rodrigue here… I mean, we’ve all been struggling with the war, and some weeks aren’t as easy as others. He probably just wants your attention for now. Felix doesn’t ask for it often, so if he did today and you weren’t taking part in it, he probably felt really awkward. He’s a big softie for you, you know. He doesn’t like that too much, but can’t help it.”

“He’s really mad. I don’t know how long I should give him space for.” Sylvain’s eyes never left the ground, disappointed in himself. The pit in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

“Is he at the training grounds?” Ingrid asked knowingly. At Sylvain’s nod, she sighed. “I’ll make sure he goes to bed, and you can talk to him back at your rooms.” She walked forward and held his shoulders, her grip firm but her hands gentle. “You’re going to be fine, Sylvain. You love him more than anything, and I’m sure he loves you too. It’s obvious, how much you’ve been through, and how much you’ve shared.”

Sylvain sighed too and smiled, small and grateful. “Thanks, Ingrid. It really means a lot.” He laughed again, still nervous but with a tinge of hope. “I really hope he says yes.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Gods, you two have turned me into such a _sap_. I’m rooting for you, though, okay? Don’t let me down.” She let go of his shoulders only to punch one lightly.

“Will I have to do your chores for _two_ months if I do?” Sylvain chuckled.

“Oh, thanks for that by the way. You’re not getting out of the consequences of our fake bet.”

~

Felix was nowhere to be found around the monastery, and no one had seen him in the dining hall. Assuming he skipped, Sylvain only hoped Ingrid had talked him into going back to his room. He headed up to the second level of dorms, chest tight and stomach queasy. Sylvain just wanted to make things right. It was scary how much he wanted it.

Stopping by his room first, Sylvain tucked the ring box into a drawer of his desk. He stared at the drawer for a moment, pondering what to say.

He didn’t want to propose _now_ , because Felix would see right through him. He would be transparent and yet Felix would miss all the important parts. Felix would look at that ring and assume Sylvain was saving his own ass, that Sylvain had picked it up on a whim to keep him for fun, and not because he was so head over heels that he couldn’t stand it. The last thing he needed was for Felix to think that all this time, he’d just been another victim of Sylvain’s shallow charm.

Sylvain hated when Felix thought he wasn’t enough; he saw it in his eyes sometimes, in vulnerable moments when Sylvain soothed him with a hushed voice, running his hand through that long, gorgeous black hair. He hated when Felix doubted that he was the most breathtaking person Sylvain had ever seen, ever known, ever held in his arms. When Felix thought that his eyes weren’t more stunning than the morning sun, when he thought that the feeling of his lips against Sylvain’s wasn’t sometimes all that kept Sylvain from shattering… It tore him apart.

And the knowledge that today, Sylvain had made it seem like all of that was taken for granted made him sick. Really, it had been the opposite. Sylvain had understood it deeper than he ever had before. He had such an epiphany, such a profound realisation of his love for Felix that it took his breath and captured his consciousness. For a whole day, he had thought of nothing more than how he would ask Felix to be his husband, to pledge in more than a childhood promise that he would be with him till death do they part. Sylvain laughed bitterly at his reflection in the mirror above his desk, at how terribly backwards the whole day had turned.

But the day wasn’t over. There was still time to fix it, to salvage and mend Felix’s feelings. To alleviate his doubt and cherish him until the new day began. Sylvain took a steadying breath and left his room, walking the few paces to stand before Felix’s door. He knocked.

Felix didn’t answer at first. He heard the knock, lifted his head from where it was buried in his pillow, but he did not approach the sound. He sulked. But then the silence overcame him again, and he was sore and tired and damnit – Sylvain was the bastard that caused this whole mess. If seeing his face wouldn’t make him feel better, then maybe punching it would. Felix sighed and got out of bed, hair falling loosely around his shoulders in lovely, messy raven waves. He opened the door.

“It’s you.” Felix’s low voice was tired and hurt above all else. He didn’t even feel like spending the energy to be sour on Sylvain. “Go away.”

“Fe, let me in. Please.” Sylvain was pleading. He needed to apologise, needed it more than anything. He wanted to take Felix into his arms and make sure he _knew_ how sorry he was.

Felix only stared up at him. He didn’t know what he wanted, indecisively looking away from Sylvain’s soft, begging russet brown eyes. He wanted him gone, needed time to clear his head… yet the longer he was alone, the angrier he became. He didn’t want to blow things out of proportion, to let his mind make things something they weren’t. Maybe he needed Sylvain to apologise, or to make more a fool out of himself than he already had.

This handsome, charming, stupid, lovable fool… Felix shook his head, but stepped aside. He closed the door behind them quietly.

“Felix, I -” Sylvain reached out to touch him, to grab his shoulder or perhaps hold his hand. Felix stepped back and watched hurt flood Sylvain’s eyes. He already saw guilt there; he already saw the desperation… He needed to see the _hurt_. He needed to see Sylvain feel as lost and idiotic as Felix felt, waiting for his attention _all_ day. He needed to see… wanted to see _need_.

Felix wanted to feel important, special to Sylvain. He loved him. He loved him so much that he hated him, hated _himself_ for not being able to do everything he could for it.

Every day, as stupid as it was, he could hardly get through without Sylvain. His smile lifted a thousand weights from his shoulders, his laugh made his heart stutter and reminded him that he was alive, in whatever moment it may be. Felix liked to talk to Sylvain, to make fun of him and criticise him and share things with him. He did not want to be reduced to silence, to simply a warrior.

Sometimes Sylvain was too thick to realise how helpless Felix was against him. If it was a matter of strength, Felix would win. If it was a matter of love, Felix had no doubt that he would win. But in a matter of holding himself, the heir of Fraldarius together when the pain of each passing day built up to unbearable heights… Sylvain won that match fairly. He always had, even if Felix wouldn’t admit it.

Sylvain dropped his hand slowly. “Please let me apologise.”

“Then apologise, Sylvain.” Felix crossed his arms. “Make up for it, right now.”

“I… I’m an idiot.” That was a good place to start, but too obvious. Sylvain ached to reach out to him, to hold Felix close and press his apologies as kisses onto his skin. Sylvain had talent with words, but in the end, words could be hollow. Especially coming from him. Sylvain needed to do something, to touch Felix and hold him and make sure he knew how much he cared. When Felix didn’t let him use his love language, Sylvain’s mind short-circuited. He was lost for expression.

Felix scoffed, knowing what he was doing to Sylvain. “That’s not an apology, that’s a fact.” He waited for more words. They didn’t come. Surprised, Felix lifted his gaze.

Sylvain looked lost… and sad. He was staring at the floor, at nothing in particular. His hands were folded in front of him, and he rocked back on his heels. He looked up at Felix, opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. His eyes were glassy.

He let out a long, shaky breath and shrugged, a hopeless smile drifting across his face and falling once it had formed. “I… I’m sorry. I really messed up today.”

Felix felt bad, now. Worse, really. He felt bad before, but now he was just being low. Maybe Sylvain had just made a mistake, and everything was fine. It’s not like what either of them were doing was easy. Felix had to fight to get Sylvain out of some of the tasks he was supposed to accomplish today, and only the Goddess knows what went down because Felix refused to meet with his father. Not that it mattered but… still. Maybe he should be softer on Sylvain, just enough to let him right himself for the day.

He did hesitate, but only for a moment. Felix thought about looking away, but decided that he wanted to see the change in Sylvain’s eyes when he held out his arms for a hug.

It was instantaneous. Relief flooded his face, his eyes got glassy again, but it was behind a light, thankful and pure smile. Felix felt the tension ebb out of his shoulders as Sylvain wrapped his arms around him, one hand nestling on the back of his head, fingers weaving into his loose hair. Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain in turn, pulling him close and inhaling softly to be truly swathed by his embrace. Sylvain buried his nose in Felix’s hair, his breathing no longer shaky, but warm and light. He was relaxing.

Secretly, Felix loved how when they held each other like this, it was obvious how much they relied on each other. Felix felt as though he was supporting Sylvain when he hugged him, keeping him steady as if he were about to topple. At the same time, with Sylvain’s strong arm around his waist and his hand in his hair, Felix felt sheltered. He felt precious.

Things felt a little better now, a little brighter and a little safer here in each other’s arms.

Sylvain didn’t pull back to begin speaking. “I love you, Felix. More than you can _possibly_ imagine. It just hit me today, out of nowhere. It hit me so hard I couldn’t think straight. I’m sorry…”

The words made Felix’s heart swell painfully. Hearing them spoken aloud made him so helplessly soft. Deep down, he always knew, and he understood exactly how Sylvain felt. He held Sylvain a little closer, hiding his face in the safe, cosy crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry, too,” He mumbled quietly. Sylvain pulled back to look at him, and Felix resisted the motion. He wanted to stay close, wanted to stay together and comfortable like this. But conceding, he looked up to continue. “I… know I’m not easy to be with.” He watched Sylvain’s eyes as he spoke, watched the crease form between his brows and the rebuttal brew in his mind. “You’re a flirt, and a jackass, but I’m… stubborn. And mean. I know that. And I know how easy it would be for you to go off and find any number of girls or guys who would treat you better.”

Sylvain protested, “Felix, you know that’s not -”

“Let me finish,” Felix took a breath. “The point is, I know they wouldn’t make you happier, but they’d be _nicer_. And… It makes me so happy that it hurts, to know that I make you happy. Because… because I think I’m the only one who can.” He looked down, sharp eyes melted, soft and warm with the tender confession. It was a rare sight, one Sylvain would always treasure. “It just scares me. When you get distracted like that, when you… ignore me. I’m worried that I’m not doing enough for you. And because of that, I’m worried that you’re not happy. And won’t be.” Felix let out a soft, airy laugh and touched his head to Sylvain’s shoulder. “Gods, I feel so dumb right now. It’s weird.”

Sylvain echoed his chuckle and smiled, bright and genuine and perfect. “You do make me happy, Felix. You always have, and always will. I only want to be the same for you… You keep me in line, you know? Every day… I do all of this for you. I wake up for you.” He tilted Felix’s chin up, briefly catching his lips with his own. “We’ll be together always, remember?”

Felix nodded, breathless. “I remember.” The words were a whisper against Sylvain, filling the impossible space between them until that space was reduced to nothing.

Felix stood on his tiptoes to tangle his fingers in Sylvain’s fiery hair, and Sylvain placed his hands on his hips, walking him back until Felix stumbled onto the bed. Sylvain barely managed to keep himself from falling on top of Felix, his bewildered expression drawing shy, excited laughter from both. Sylvain quickly righted himself, scooping an arm behind Felix’s back and threading his fingers into his hair, resting the length of his body on Felix’s smaller frame beneath him. Felix obliged, arching against him and wrapping his arms around Sylvain’s back, hands scratching wantonly at the fabric of his shirt.

Sylvain smiled into the next kiss, and the next, and the next. He beamed when Felix smiled back, laughed when soft sounds were elicited from him with every touch and kiss and drag of teeth. Each blush and gasp, each sigh filled him with joy, with the confidence and love he had searched so long for. It had been there all along, with Felix, in his smiles and his words and his raven hair and burning, copper eyes.

Felix was his reason to wake up every morning and had been for years. Sylvain knew that there was a depth to his own love that even he didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. Because Felix felt it too, and proved it with every tug of hair, fluttering kiss and whisper of his name. Together, they understood what couldn’t be put into words. They understood the bond that Sylvain had dreamed of proving with a ring, a material; in truth, their bond was not meant for material things. It was meant to be felt in quiet moments, when words and promises had no place because all that existed was each other.

* * *

Sylvain thought of the ring every day for the next month. It sat in his desk, waiting, taunting his plans and teasing his schedules. Some nights he would wake, take it out of the drawer and stand outside Felix’s room; others, he wouldn’t look at it at all. With each passing day, the march on Enbarr grew nearer and nearer, and while Sylvain wanted to wait for peace, he began to understand that waiting wouldn’t be enough.

There was no time to lose. This could very well be their last battle, and if they fell… if something happened to them… he would be damned if Felix went down without that ring on his finger. And waiting for the war to end was nonsense, too. If they won, there’d be a _lot_ of work to do. Sylvain would have to go back to the far, cold north of Gautier and deal with Sreng. Felix would have to help take care of things in Blaiddyd and in Fraldarius, and they’d probably end up helping in old Alliance and Empire territory as well. The end of this war didn’t mean that there would be time to rest, far from it really. Sylvain refused to let time slip away, to let another day go by in which Felix wasn’t promised the world.

These thoughts were exactly what pushed Sylvain to the dining hall that evening, even though he had already eaten. He walked with determined steps, psyching himself up and reciting the words in his mind. To say he was nervous would be a grand understatement, especially because seeing Felix tore the carefully practiced words from his mind and made his heart pound mercilessly.

He was just sitting with the others, picking at his food and chatting primarily with Mercedes and Annette. Most of the Lions were there, having just gotten out of their supply meetings. Sylvain suddenly felt apprehensive. There was no way he could do this subtly. And Felix seemed relaxed, tired but content amongst his friends and allies. Sylvain would be so screwed if this went badly.

Running a hand through his hair and taking a breath, Sylvain walked over to the table. The others looked up and greeted him as he approached, with varying levels of energy but all with smiles.

“Hey guys,” Sylvain waved only kind of awkwardly. “Can I borrow Felix for a minute?”

“Sylvain, join us!” Mercedes chirped, patting the seat beside her. Annette echoed her invitation with a cute grin.

Sylvain laughed softly and held up a hand. “Thanks for the offer, ladies, but I really have to talk to Fe…”

Felix put down his fork and looked up questioningly. “Can’t you just say whatever you need to here, oaf? Join us.”

“Fe, please,” Sylvain chuckled again, nervous. “Can you come with me for a minute?”

The girls looked between each other, puzzled, and Felix blinked at Sylvain, before giving in and sighing. He pushed his plate away and stood. “Fine, where are we going?” There was the lightest edge in his voice, unease trickling into his tone. He clearly had no idea what Sylvain had planned. Perfect.

Maybe.

Sylvain relaxed his grin to put him at ease, holding out his hand and interlacing their fingers when Felix accepted. He swung their hands between them and waved to the group, stealing Felix away into the quiet night of the Monastery. Their footsteps resonated off each other’s and the stone walls and scaffolding surrounding them as they walked briefly through the gardens, past the dorms. The whole way, Felix remained silent, staring at Sylvain watchfully. His eyes were soft, curious, trying to decipher exactly what ridiculous shenanigans Sylvain must have planned for this escapade.

Their jaunt finally ended at the training grounds, the silvery moonlight shining onto the stone floors and the flickering lanterns sending shadows dancing across the walls. Sylvain’s hair was illuminated by the golden light, his eyes reflecting the lambent rays. In contrast, Felix’s eyes burned with curiosity, suspicion, and deep down, hints of adoration. Sure, Sylvain could be strange and spontaneous, but Felix couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be spoiled.

He pushed back his bangs when they fell in his eyes, huffing quietly. “If we’re here for you to break up with me because you think you’re going to die, then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought. Remember you’re on my home turf. I will beat your ass.”

Sylvain chuckled warmly, taking Felix’s other hand in his own. He rubbed his thumbs over Felix’s knuckles, then slid his hands up his wrists and finally, gently cupped his cheeks. Felix blushed, softening in his embrace, and hesitantly placed his hands on Sylvain’s waist.

“What… are you planning, Sylvain?” Felix tried to sound inconvenienced, exasperated, but the hushed volume of his voice made the question fall chaste onto Sylvain’s lips. At their proximity, Felix gave in and kissed him delicately, unsure and all too aware of how gentle Sylvain was being. The trace of his thumbs brushing lightly over Felix’s cheeks, the careful pressure of his lips and the uncertain lightness of his breath were all new. The gestures spoke of something deeper, a new _something_ in their relationship. Felix didn’t know what it was, and it was damn frustrating… but he wanted more of it. He wanted to exist in this quiet bliss for as long as he could.

Sylvain finally pulled away, just enough to touch his forehead to Felix’s. He didn’t move his hands, allowing their breath to mingle together and their chests to rise and fall against one another. A sweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Felix ached to catch those soft lips again.

“I’m not breaking up with you, silly. I never would…” Sylvain’s words were a whisper, mumbled and honest. He laughed quietly. “Gods, you can be so cute when you’re clingy.”

“You’re too close in punching range to be saying things like that,” a smirk pulled at Felix’s lips, a breathless sigh coming in response to Sylvain’s laughter.

Sylvain pulled back further, gazing into Felix’s eyes, his own hazel ones confident. “I did bring you here for more of a reason than to make out. I…” He hesitated, smile faltering as shyness crept in. “I brought you here to end our lives apart.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Huh? What are you talking about, you…” He trailed off, all confusion vanishing when Sylvain knelt before him. Felix went scarlet, a hand rising to cover his shocked expression. His heart leapt into his throat, beating rapidly.

Sylvain was all smiles, looking up at him. He was so handsome, and so confident, yet carrying the softest features of hesitance and purest expressions of honesty. He reached into his pocket and removed the small black box, turning it towards Felix to open.

And he dropped it. It fumbled, the box clattering quietly to the stone floor. Felix stared at Sylvain, and Sylvain stared at the box, his hands frozen in place where they were. Then Felix erupted in giddy, joyous laughter. It was the most beautiful sound Sylvain had ever heard, and he soon joined in, the mingled sounds echoing off the stone walls. Sylvain pressed a palm to his forehead and sighed as the giggles died down and rescued the ring box from its place on the ground. He opened it and straightened the ring inside, once again turning it to face Felix, properly this time.

Felix’s laughter trailed away as he gazed at the ring, at the iridescent stone and the shining silver. His expression softened in understanding. “This is what you bought, that day at the market… Not the soaps. Dumbass, why did you lie to me?” He rolled his eyes and tried his best to glare at Sylvain, but there was a clear happiness reflected in those dark eyes that betrayed how soft and small he felt in this moment. He already knew the answer.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, clearly,” Sylvain beamed compassionately, his expression reflecting so much love. “So…?”

Felix picked up the ring carefully, examining it before sliding it onto his slender finger. It fit perfectly. “It’s not bad… I’m impressed. I never really thought a lot about my taste in jewellery.”

“ _Felix,_ ” Sylvain complained, “Quit teasing! That’s my job, plus… I’m asking you to marry me. Don’t leave a guy hanging like this.” He sighed, excitement sparking in his eyes. “Press the centre stone.”

Felix raised an eyebrow and looked down at the ring. Press the stone? He inspected the band for a moment, then looked up at Sylvain doubtfully before pressing his thumb to the gem.

The curved blade sprung forth, revealing itself in a glint of the light. Felix’s copper eyes widened, melting as a blush blossomed across his face. He was taken, completely and utterly enthralled. Years of memories and fleeting moments, laughter and pain and love came crashing together when he gazed at the man before him. His friend, his lover, and now to be his husband. The feeling was indescribable. “Goddess…” He mumbled, eyes sparkling as he pressed the button to retract the blade. “I love you so much. _Yes,_ Sylvain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, I will respond to any and all! I love to hear feedback, feelings, squees and all, and also what more I can do to provide noice content. Love y'all! thanks so much for reading! <3


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